


A Christmas Miracle

by LordOfThePoptarts



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Christmas, Customer Service's worst nightmare a wild Karen, Flirting, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, McHanzo Week, McHanzo Week 2020, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Singer Jesse McCree, but that's not important, trapped in an airport
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26171293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordOfThePoptarts/pseuds/LordOfThePoptarts
Summary: McCree is trapped in an airport, in the middle of a snowstorm, on Christmas and all he wants to do is get home. Oh, and to stop this Karen from being an absolute grinch to the customer service agent at the gate.Written for McHanzo Week 2020 Day 6 (Seasons/Time)
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 5
Kudos: 107





	A Christmas Miracle

McCree tapped his foot impatiently as the PA above him unfortunately informed him that his flight had been delayed for the nth time that evening. Outside, snow pelted the huge glass windows and blew in a dense white mass across the runway. The whole word was white, only occasionally disrupted by the blinking lights of the planes trapped at their gates. Denver was dismal this time of year. The Rockies were obscured by the winter storm that had left them all trapped in the airport. The sky was dark and grey and slush accumulated against the building far below. McCree watched the baggage crew’s fluorescent vests bob and weave around the plane, unloading all their luggage. 

McCree understood not wanting to fly in this, he wasn’t suicidal. However, some people couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around it. Like the Karen who had been yelling at the poor agent for the last hour and half.

“I have to get home! It’s Christmas!” The WASP soccer mom screeched. She’d been saying the same thing over and over since she’d started. She seemed to think everyone else at the gate was just there for fun, and didn’t want to go home just as much as her.

“Don’t you know who I am!” The woman slammed her hand on the desk, and McCree winced at the sound of skin slapping plastic. The manager seeking witch didn’t even flinch. Her child sat calmly next to her, playing on some kind of handheld. Occasionally he’d look up at his mom and try to get her attention, but she didn’t even look at him. Poor thing was practically asleep on his feet. He’d been half slouched in on himself, eyes slipping shut before flying open again, for the past thirty minutes. McCree sighed as he watched the kid try to doze again, only waking this time when his console slipped from his hands. The desk agent seemed like she wanted to do the exact same thing. McCree had to give her props for keeping her cool for so long in the face of a raving idiot.

“Get me your manager, the pilot! I need to get home tonight.” The walking Lularoe ad shoved her finger into the agent’s chest, getting into her face. “You will charter me a private plane, you will fly me to Cheyenne, and you will get me there tonight!”

“Ma’am, please, I have already told you. I am the manager. I’d be perfectly happy to get you some meal vouchers and pay for your stay in a hotel, but all planes have been ordered to be grounded. No one is flying out until this storm has passed. Besides this isn’t even the gate for--”

“Unbelievable!” The woman screamed, throwing her hands into the air. Beneath her, her kid startled, and stared up at his mom alarmingly. McCree felt bad for him. It couldn’t have been easy having a mom like that. A headache began to form behind McCree’s eyes as the Karen started in on the same spiel again. The agent practically wilted underneath the furious onslaught. McCree stood up and made his way over. He really didn’t want to listen to this anymore.

The desk agent saw him approaching and stood straight up again, her eyes warily hopeful. McCree shot her a tired smile in response. His headache worsened by the proximity to the stupidity.

“I am the wife of the head of the city council. I will have you arrested!” The kid looked up at McCree as he took his place behind the boy’s horribly mannered mother. The boy’s eyes widened, as he caught sight of McCree’s cowboy hat and he rocked himself up onto his hands, smiling wide.

“Are you a real cowboy?” The console he’d been clutching previously was on the ground and some old arcade pixel saloon was displayed on the screen. Enemies shot at the now unmoving cowboy on screen. Game Over flashed bright red, accompanied by rapid fire gun shots. 

McCree tipped his hat, winking at the kid. “Sure am.”

The kid gasped, practically vibrating from his seat on the ground. The boy opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by an obnoxious clearing of a throat. McCree looked up to see the Karen’s squinty gaze fixed firmly on him.

“Excuse me!” Her voice was irritatingly nasal. “You will not speak to my child.” She looked him up and down. Her mouth was twisted into an ugly sneer. 

McCree raised his hands, taking a step back. “Was just trying to be polite, ma’am. He asked me a question, and I gave him an answer.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “My Johnny would never speak to strangers. He knows better. Shame on you, lying about a child.”

McCree shot a wide eyed look to the desk agent, raising an eyebrow. 

The kid rose to his feet, and tugged on the edge of his mom’s shirt. “I did ask him though, mom.” The smile hadn’t left his face yet, and he pointed excitedly towards McCree. “He’s a real cowboy!”

The woman clutched her son against her, pressing him closer against her. “Johnny, don’t listen to him. There are no cowboys anymore.” She smiled at McCree, sharp artificially white teeth that glinted painfully in the LEDs overhead. “He’s a filthy liar.”

McCree sighed, shooting his gaze briefly to the ceiling to see if God would answer his prayer for some divine intervention, but the popcorn ceiling was silent.

“You’re from Cheyenne, you said ma’am?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Are you eavesdropping on my conversation! Don’t you know how rude that is, this is private! Are you stalking me?”

“I’m pretty sure the whole terminal heard every word you decided to scream at this nice young woman here.” He said, gesturing to the agent. Karen opened her mouth to reply, but McCree cut her off with a gesture. “And if you were so worried about strangers talking to your son, you probably should have paid an ounce of attention to him instead of letting him fall asleep on the floor. In fact, he could’ve been in bed asleep already if you’d just taken the hotel voucher she offered you, instead of subjecting me and everyone else, who wants to get home just as much as you, to your rambling.”

“I, how dare--”

“I’m not finished yet, ma’am. You’d do best to teach yourself some manners, lord knows your own son is better behaved than you.” He turned now to the boy, completely ignoring Karen who's mouth flapped open and shut like a dying fish.

“Now, son, let me tell you one thing. There are absolutely still cowboys and I am the true blue real deal. In fact, I was in Cheyenne just this summer at y’alls rodeo. You’ve heard of that right?” 

The boy nodded so fast McCree was surprised he didn’t get whiplash. “Yeah! There’s bull riding, and horses, and roller coasters.” His excitement dimmed slightly and he shot a look at his mom. “Mom won’t take me though. She says it’s too hot, and dirty, and that it’s a waste of money.”

If looks could kill, McCree would be six feet underground with the glare Karen was giving him. 

“Well that’s a shame, but then again different strokes for different folks. Rodeo’s ain’t for everyone.” McCree dug into his pocket pulling out a pen and a piece of paper. “I’ll give you my name and number and you just call me up next year when the rodeo rolls around and I can get you two some tickets, free of charge.” He looked to the Karen, most of the gate had their eyes on them. He knew she knew how horrible she’d look if she refused his offer in front of so many people, especially when her kid was so elated.

“Mom!” The kid bounced up and down, hand still clutching her shirt fabric. “Mom, please you gotta take it! I wanna go, please, please, please. I won’t ask for anything else ever again, not even a puppy.” He leaned back, stretched her shirt fabric thin, and he could see Karen wince brushing his little hands off of her. 

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Fine.” She thrust her hands towards McCree. “Give it to me.” McCree didn’t move, and she rolled her eyes. “I said, give it to me.”

McCree smiled, “I will, however, I do believe you owe this young woman an apology first.” He gestured to the desk agent who had been watching their exchange, a smile on her face. Although, it disappeared the minute Karen trained her beady eyes on her again.

She sighed heavily, shooting another look to her son and the people around them. Her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry.” It sounded like it physically hurt her to say. The desk agent beamed. 

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” She gathered a few papers laying around on the desk before offering them to the woman. “Here are your meal vouchers, and the details for the hotel.” 

Karen rolled her eyes, “I don’t want those, I want a flight!” McCree began folding up the piece of paper and putting it back in his pocket and the Karen whirled on him.

“What are you doing, you said you’d give that to me!” Her voice was reaching near supersonic levels.

“And I said you owed that nice woman an apology. From your behavior, I reckon you’re not really sorry.”

She reached for McCree, trying to grab his hand that held the paper, but he stepped back out of reach. 

“Mom.” Karen turned her eyes back to her son, who was staring up at her with wide eyes as he yawned. “I’m tired, can we go soon?”

McCree did his best to fight the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. Kid was doing all the work for him. He could see another mom with two kids sitting a little further away, shaking her head at Karen. She leaned over to tuck a coat tighter around one of her sleeping children. She caught McCree looking at her, and gave him a wane smile. McCree returned the gesture.

The Karen snatched the papers off the desk, muttering another half- hearted apology and turned back to McCree.

“Is that better?” Her cheeks were awash with an angry blush.

“No, not really, but I suppose I shouldn’t keep you much longer when your kiddo’s been ready to conk out on ya for the past half hour.” He presented the paper to her and she snatched it from his hands, pinching it between two fingers like it would give her a disease.

McCree nodded, tipping his hat first to the Karen. “Ma’am,” and then to her son. “Cowpoke,” before walking away out of the waiting area and towards the nearest source of caffeine he could find.

He heard an ear splitting screech erupt from behind him, back at the gate.

“JESSE MCCREE!” 

He ducked into a coffee shop and out of sight before he could give the Karen a chance to find him again. 

He had just finished pouring some creamer into his cup, when he became aware of a presence waiting next to the open chair at his table. He looked up. It was another man, dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks. He had a navy blue overcoat draped over the arm that was holding a large coffee cup. He had a wicked looking undercut, that McCree imagined wouldn’t feel all that great in this weather. McCree could see some holes in the bridge of his nose, under his lip, and in his ears that he assumed would normally hold piercings, but they all seemed to have been removed for now, except for two slate gray studs in the man’s earlobes. 

He was smiling albeit, tiredly. He gestured to the open chair. “May I join you?” 

McCree spread out his arms, “By all means.” He wasn’t exactly going to turn down the company of someone attractive on a dreary day like this.

“Thank you. It appears everyone here had the same idea as us.” He said gesturing to his coffee cup, and then to the mostly full cafe. He took a seat, draping his coat over the chair, before settling in and taking a long sip of his drink.

McCree nodded, taking a drink of his own before responding. “Well, can you blame them with that storm going on outside.” He shivered. “Get cold just looking at it.” He extended his hand to shake. “Jesse McCree.”

The man smirked, and took his hand shaking it firmly, letting their palms linger for a moment before letting go. “I heard, Hanzo Shimada.”

McCree blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, you saw that, huh?”

His table partner, Hanzo, raised a brow. “Wasn’t that the point?”

McCree shrugged looking down at his coffee, stirring it a bit. “I suppose, don’t make it any less embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing, how?” Hanzo said, cocking his head to the side. “I saw you do a great kindness to a child and a young woman during a difficult time for both of them. Not to mention all the other people you spared from having to listen to anymore of that woman’s rambling.”

McCree huffed a laugh, “You give me too much credit. I was just tired of listening to her talk, I’m sure someone else would’ve done something eventually. Helping the kid out was just a bonus.”

“There were a thousand other ways you could have diffused that situation, and yet you still chose to offer a child tickets to something he enjoyed. Even if it meant giving that woman something as well.” Hanzo took a sip of his coffee, eyeing him over his drink. “Not just anyone would do that.”

“Well, it ain’t the kid’s fault he was stuck with her as a mom.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Who knows maybe this will teach her some manners.” He paused, contemplating. “My assistant’s gonna wanna kill me though.”

Hanzo laughed. It was a rough, throaty sound, like thunder rolling in from somewhere far away. It was gorgeous, as was the owner of the laugh. McCree swallowed hard at the sound, hiding his blushing face in his coffee. Trying to blame the redness in his cheeks on the heat. So what, he was getting flustered over a hot guy in an airport, it’d been a while. Sue him.

“I imagine you giving that out is going to cause all sorts of problems, yes. Famous country singer and all.”

McCree perked up, leaning forward. “You’ve heard of me? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly look like someone who’d listen to country.”

Hanzo just shrugged, and McCree tried not to drool at the way his muscles flexed under the fabric of his shirt. “I dabble. I wouldn’t say I’m a fan of the genre, but I’ve liked what I’ve heard. You’re quite good.”

McCree blushed, this time unable to blame it on the coffee as his cup was almost empty already. “Aw, shucks, you’re too kind.”

“Just stating fact.”

McCree laughed, throwing his head back. “Well, if it was fact I don’t think there’d be so many opinions pieces arguing about me.” He paused, throwing Hanzo his best winning smile. “But I always appreciate a compliment, ‘specially when it comes from someone who looks like whiskey tastes.”

“What? Rough, uncultured, and revolting.” Hanzo replied with a smirk. “Mr. McCree, I feel like I should be insulted.”

McCree rolled his eyes and reached across the table to take Hanzo’s hand. “You know exactly what I mean, and you’re still hot as sin, even if I don’t agree with your drinking tastes.” McCree leaned in, bringing their faces close. This close he could see the gold that threaded itself through the dark chocolate brown of Hanzo’s irises. “Since we’re both stuck here, why don’t we head on back to my hotel and see if we can make the best of the situation.”

Hanzo opened his mouth to respond, and like magic, a rapid fire fiddle ringtone rang out between them, and McCree sighed digging the phone out of his coat pocket, wincing at the caller ID. He shot an apologetic look at his table mate. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” 

Hanzo returned the gesture McCree had used to invite him to take a seat just moments ago. “By all means.”

“Jesse McCree!” McCree rushed to turn the call volume down as his assistant’s voice pierced his eardrum. She was not happy with him. “Can you for the love of god, explain why I am receiving call after call from some woman named Susan, who insisted you know her and told her you could have your private jet.” She paused just long enough to take a breath. “Since when do you have a private jet anyway! You literally don’t go anywhere unless you’re on tour! Should I be worried about your spending habits. Oh my god, are you a sugar daddy! Cause if so, I’m not judging but also, wow, you need to raise your standards.” 

McCree sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Should have figured, that bitch.

“I don’t have a private jet, Olivia, you can stop planning to hack into my bank account again.” Across the table, Hanzo looked up, surprised, raising a brow at the statement. McCree waved him off, mouthing that he’d tell him later.

“Oh please, that was one time and only because you didn’t pay me back for Friday night tacos.”

“Yes, I know, very white hat of you.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He watched as Hanzo’s eyes tracked the motion, and drug it out a bit longer than necessary, stretching back in his chair. “It’s not what you’re thinking, she’s just some woman who was bothering the desk agent because of the storm. She had a kid with her, he liked cowboys, and I said I could get them Frontier Days tickets.”

“Aren’t those like twenty bucks?” 

“Yeah, but go ahead and throw in some front row tickets too. I’m booked next year, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

Olivia groaned, “You owe me, McCree. She asked to speak to my manager. My manager! Bitch, I am an island unto myself, my boss doesn’t even tell me what to do.”

McCree laughed, “Speaking of, you got that hotel arranged yet?”

“Oh would you look at the time, I have to go prune my rose bushes.”

“Olivia, it’s literally midnight for you, and last I checked you don’t have any--”

“The roses, can’t wait! Talk to you soon, cowboy.” The line clicked and went dead. McCree stared at his phone. Guess he was SOL. 

Hanzo was giving him an amused look from across the table. “That sounded like an interesting phone call.”

“That’s one way to describe Olivia.”

“I’m assuming that’s your aforementioned assistant.” Hanzo finished the last of his coffee, tossing the empty cup in the nearby trash can.

“Yeah, she wasn’t exactly happy with my decision to give out her number to a random person, who decided to claim she knew me and that I was giving her access to a private jet I don’t have.”

Hanzo huffed a laugh and shook his head. “I would almost admire her tenacity, were she not a horrible human being.”

“Yeah, if only the Karen’s would use their powers for good.”

It was silent between the two of them for a long beat, and Hanzo reached over, once again entwining their hands. 

“What was that you said about a hotel room?” McCree winced and Hanzo frowned, making to retract his hand, but McCree grabbed it back before the other man could pull away.

“Bad news about the hotel room, my assistant decided the best way to punish me was to not book it, and I only had her try because every place around here was stonewalling me.” He sighed, leaning back into his chair. “So long story short, I no longer have a hotel room.”

Hanzo hummed, before holding up a finger, and pulling out his phone. He typed something in rapidly, and almost immediately after he’d sent the message there was a ding from the device.

Hanzo looked up, smile sly and smooth, as he pulled the two of them out of their seats. McCree couldn’t help but notice, he made sure to keep their hands entwined. 

“Good news, it appears I just so happen to have acquired myself a hotel room, and it also appears that I could be persuaded to let someone, perhaps you, join me for the night in said hotel room.” He squeezed their hands together, stepping impossibly close as the two left the coffee shop. McCree swore he would melt into a puddle right there.

“And what would a guy like me, hypothetically, have to do to join you in said hotel room.”

Hanzo smirked, pulling them into an alcove and pressing their bodies together for one long moment. Their lips were practically touching, and McCree desperately wanted to lean in and close the kiss, but Hanzo placed a hand on his chest stopping him from leaning in.

“I heard real cowboys can ride anything without being bucked off. Let’s put that to the test shall we?” Hanzo pressed their hips together and ground forward, and tugged McCree’s hair pulling him into a searing kiss. Stars exploded behind McCree’s eyes at the contact, and he moaned. Hanzo pulled away all too soon, both of them breathing hard in the small space. 

“How far is it to the hotel?” McCree gasped. He was achingly hard and the thought of having to possibly walk all the way across the airport with a hard on, wasn’t appealing in the slightest.

Hanzo smiled and laughed, truly thunderous this time, low and dangerous bringing the promise of a storm. “Not far at all, cowboy.”

He tugged the two of them out of the alcove and down a hallway. McCree wrapped his long coat tighter around himself. Olivia would really kill him if he decided to scandalize half the damn airport.

McCree didn’t think he’d really understood the definition of ridden hard and put away wet until now. Every inch of his body ached, but it was a good ache, deep and satisfying. Even though his hips twinged when he sat up. He would be feeling this for a while, and goddamn he couldn’t be happier about it. 

The smile dropped off his face though, when his arm stretched out across the bed, and hit empty space. It was cold, with no indent. He looked around the empty hotel room for any sign of his partner from last night, but all that was left was McCree’s own luggage, unopened just like the night before. He cursed and tumbled out of bed, searching both nightstands for a note, a scrap of paper, anything. All he found was an old gum wrapper, the standard Gideon, and gathering dust.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “Idiot. What did you expect.” He said into the empty space. “It was literally an airport hookup, you are in a place designed for leaving.” 

Speaking of which, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand, turning it on and unlocking it. He quickly clicked on the text notification from the airline, and looked like he’d be leaving today too. He took another quick glance at the departure time, and then back at his phone’s clock, and back at the departure time again. Shit, he was gonna be late.

He grabbed the closest clothes he could find, which just happened to be last night’s ensemble, and ran a quick hand through his hair to make it look at least artfully messy, grabbing his bag, and heading out the door.

He made it to the gate out of breath and almost out of time. The flight attendant didn’t look happy with him when he presented his ticket, but they hadn’t closed the door yet, so it’s not like she could keep him from boarding. He left his bag on the bridge with a few others that had yet to be loaded, since he hadn’t had time to properly check it, and made his way to his seat. His legs protested at all the running he’d been doing that morning, and he sighed, at least he was in first class. He could stretch out a bit. His eyes scanned the seat numbers, dropping down when he got to his aisle and alighting on a familiar face.

“Well I’ll be damned, darling. Fancy seeing you here.”

Hanzo smiled up at McCree, gesturing to the seat next to him. “Care to join me?”

McCree laughed and plopped himself down next to the other. “Don’t mind if I do.” 

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again..” McCree said as the flight attendants flitted around them doing their final checks.

Hanzo winced, “When I woke up, I was already late. My brother would kill me if I wasn’t on this flight. I would’ve stayed or left a note, but…”

McCree grabbed Hanzo’s hand, running a thumb gently over the back of it. “I barely made it on time here myself, so I can’t really blame you. Although I’m awful happy fate decided to give us another chance.” 

Hanzo hummed and pulled McCree in as close as the plane seats would allow. “Perhaps when drink service starts you can recommend a good whiskey.”

“Thought you didn’t like whiskey?”

Hanzo smiled, and slowly looked McCree up and down, pulling him into a kiss that was soft, and sweet, and everything unsaid. 

“I think I can learn to like it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! Day 6 is done and I literally did not expect to do this today, hence why I am writing this note at 12:20 AM. You may be wondering where day 4 and 5 are, well funny story. Both are up as screenshots on my twitter, linked below. Day 4 was a screenshot of the piece for the Danger and Dread McHanzo zine, which is a McHanzo zine by horror fans for horror fans. You can follow them on twitter https://twitter.com/n_dnger for updates on when preorders open. Now...about day 5. Herman Melville's ghost possessed me and now it's a 11k (so far) monstrosity about hs age magic af but doesn't know it Jesse and dryder Hanzo. Oof, I have about 4 chapters done, so I'll start posting that once it's done, no promises on a time frame for that. As for this piece, yes I will post the smut eventually, however it is late as I said and if I added smut to this it would be way way way way fucking longer than it as atm, and I just didn't have the energy to do that. So, tldr, I'll write smut for this when the week is over bcus I am very tired right now. It'll just be added onto this as a second chapter, so look forward to that!   
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. If you enjoyed it please tell me so in a comment, they are my life blood.
> 
> Twitter:  
> https://twitter.com/NoRoomForGhosts


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